


Only Just Begun

by Ivy_Adair



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous Canon Ending, Engagement, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Maybe - Freeform, Minor Depictions of Healing Injuries, Minor Depictions of Medical Matters, Minor Depictions of Wounds and Wound Care, Minor Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Pillow Talk, Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Some Very Minor Sadness, Spec Reqs 2019, Spectre Requisitions Rare Pair Exchange, Spectre Requsitions, Spectre Requsitions 2019, Spectre Requsitions Rare Pair Exchange 2019, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, just two people who love each other, making their own happiness after going through a lot of stuff, no real plot, probably AU, wedding ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_Adair/pseuds/Ivy_Adair
Summary: During the fight against the Reapers Garrus strikes up a deal with Shepard: at the end of the war, if they're both still alive, they get married and live happily ever after. Now that the Reapers are gone, Garrus and Shepard do just that.





	Only Just Begun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellebeedarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/gifts).



John Shepard rolled off of his lover with a sigh. Drops of sweat lingered on his forehead, threatening to fall and slide down his skin at any moment. It was a sight that captivated his lover, a Turian named Garrus Vakarian. Turians didn’t sweat, so it fascinated him to watch the droplets appear on Shepard’s skin. Garrus knew from experience that it tasted salty, that it accented the sweet taste of Shepard’s skin. He wanted to reach out and brush the droplets away with his talon, but restrained himself.

Shepard’s chest heaved as he caught his breath again, muscles in his body melting into jelly with after effects of his orgasm. He heard Garrus sigh and turned on to his side to better look at the Turian. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

Garrus chuckled to himself. “You’re going to think it’s stupid." 

Reaching across the gap between the two of them, Shepard rested his hand on top of Garrus’ chest. His fingers curled inward, feeling the rasp of the Turian’s rough exterior against the soft pads of his fingers. Sitting up, he slid across the bed so he was shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with Garrus. Without preamble, the two of them leaned into each other, necks turning so their foreheads could press together. Garrus shuddered a little under the touch, prompting Shepard to smile softly and close his eyes. It never ceased to amaze Shepard how something so small could make Garrus react. Then again, he figured that Garrus was probably just as astonished by human things like hand-holding or ear nibbling. They’d only slept together a couple of times, and had been dancing around that for around a week before that, so their relationship was still early enough that they each were constantly learning what made the other tick. Shepard had never really thought about it prior to sleeping with Garrus, but there really were a multitude of different things that constituted affection and intimacy to their respective species. Garrus had learned about kissing, and to his surprise quite liked it even if he lacked lips; Shepard, however, had learned that Turians loved gentle touches - like pressing their foreheads together or soft, lingering massages along the crest, for example - in sharp contrast to the normal brash, militaristic behaviors of Turian society.

“I bet I won’t,” Shepard murmured.

“I just.…” Garrus sighed, a sharp, short exhale of breath. There was a subtle shift to the Turian, a wall had gone up and Garrus’s demeanor changed. “I just can’t believe you got me into bed with that ‘tiebreaker’ line.”

Shepard chuckled, though there wasn’t mirth behind the sound. He pressed his head against the Turian’s shoulder. “Talk to me,” he whispered into his lover’s ear.

Silence.

It weighed heavily on Shepard’s back, like he was standing on a planet with ultra-gravity. Still, Shepard didn’t move, didn’t breathe as he waited for Garrus to gather himself to speak. Shepard nuzzled Garrus’s shoulder with his cheek, just letting the Turian know he was there.

Finally, after several beats of silence, Garrus’s voice cut through the air like a knife, “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I close my eyes and I see the wreckage of the Normandy through that little porthole on the escape pod. In my mind’s eye I can see you suffocating in space and I’m terrified that I’m going to lose you again. But then I look at you and you’re real and beautiful and I feel so happy that my chest is going to burst. I’m torn between holding you because I love you or because I’m afraid that I’m going to lose you again.”

“Garrus-”

“Sometimes I close my eyes and I feel like I’m still on Omega, waiting to die and maybe wanting to. Then, there you are…coming over that bridge to save me and I wonder…” Garrus trailed off. His eyes closed as his voice turned into a soft whisper: “I wonder if I ever really made it off of Omega.”

“Well…I can’t say for certain if this isn’t some kind of afterlife but, for what it’s worth, I’m glad I’m here with you.” Shepard took Garrus’s hand in his and curled his fingers around the Turian’s rough palm. With his other hand, he pressed the Turian’s blunted talons until they curled around his held hand. Gently, he brought the back of Garrus’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into the Turian’s rough skin. “And this?” Shepard asked, gesturing to their bodies with their locked hands. “Real. Nothing is going to change that.”

Garrus shifted, rolling on to his side to gather Shepard in his arms. He hauled the human into his body, pressing his mouth against’ Shepard’s soft lips. When they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together again in an entirely different sort of kiss. “What do humans do when they’re in love?”

“Other than what we just did?” Shepard asked, lips curling up into a cheeky smile. “They usually move in together, get married, have kids, a house, and a dog. What about Turians?”

“We have a ceremony with a bit of a party after. The couple in question stands up in front of their loved ones to announce their bond.”

“Oh that’s, uh, basically what humans do. Except we have someone who presides over the ceremony and the couple says some vows and exchange rings.”

Garrus paused. Then softly, he spoke: “We…should do that. All of it.”

“Yeah, right,” Shepard scoffed. He pulled away to see Garrus looking at him. Garrus’ intense Turian eyes bore into him, making his heart race as his stomach flipped. “You’re serious.”

Garrus nodded as his mandibles wiggled on their own accord. “You don’t want to?” he asked at last, voice low.

 Shepard pulled away from his lover’s body, facing him head on. “It’s not that, not at all.”

Suddenly unable to look at the hurt blossoming across Garrus’s face, Shepard looked away. He loved Garrus, he knew that as surely as he knew anything else in the Galaxy. He knew he’d fallen head over heels for the Turian back when they were chasing Saren and his biggest regret of that time was not being able to tell Garrus before he’d died. But life wasn’t simple for Shepard, as much as he’d hate to say something so trite. With untold amounts of lives in his hands, he didn’t know if he could truly commit to Garrus in the ways he wanted.

 “I love you, Garrus and I want a life with you, but I have to be realistic.”

“Realistic?”

“I died once already, Garrus. And let’s not forget that we’re going on what basically amounts to a suicide mission to defeat an enemy that a lot of people don’t even believe exist, who actually work for the real enemy that no one off of this ship even believes exists. An enemy who’s wiped out who knows how many civilizations. An enemy it took the entire fifth fleet to kill one of. I just… I don’t have a lot of hope for the future.” Shepard took Garrus’s hand in his again.

“No matter what happens,” Garrus began, pulling Shepard’s hand to his scarred cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. So if you die, I’ll probably be dead too.”

Shepard groaned softly, looking away from his lover’s fierce stare.

“I’ll make you a deal, Shepard.”

“What?” he asked as he turned back.

“When this is over, and for good or ill the Reapers are done and, you and I are still alive, we get married.”

Shepard couldn’t fight the smile that broke its way on to his face.

“Okay. It’s a deal.”

* * *

John Shepard rolled over, reaching for the cane that lay propped up against the wall near his bed. He groaned as he grabbed the cane and used it to haul himself up and out of bed. His prosthetic leg thumped against the floor as he hobbled towards the bathroom. Shepard could hear the distant sound of a shower being turned off, but it barely registered in his sleep-addled mind. He reached the sink and pitched forward, bracing himself on the edges of the counter. He looked into the mirror and for a moment, Shepard didn’t recognize the face that was peering back at him. In his mind he was still the man he’d been before the war, all good looks and youthful vigor but now, now the war had taken its toll. Before he had time to criticize his appearance, two arms circled his waist and tugged him back into a standing position.

Shepard’s lips quirked up once, but fell again as he let his head fall back into the shoulder of his fiancé, Garrus. The Turian was nude, his carapace still a little damp from his shower.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Shepard murmured.

“Not too much pain? Stiffness okay? If you need me to call Joni for a session, I’d be hap-”

“Garrus, I’m _fine_.”

The Turian sighed. “Of course, I’m sorry. I’m going to get dressed, let me know if you need any help. We’ve got a got couple of hours before they’ll be here.”

Garrus pressed his mouth into the side of Shepard’s neck before pulling away. He fought the urge to look over his shoulder at his fiancé, wanting to make sure the man was okay. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t hover, shouldn’t treat Shepard like he was made of glass and yet…each time he looked at John and saw the way his face remained neutral, the way he rarely spoke, Garrus felt like he _needed_ to fix it.

Shepard never talked about what happened after they parted ways in London. Yet seeing the demeanor of Shepard change so dramatically, he had no choice but to make assumptions. He didn’t think Shepard was depressed, or even unhappy truly it was more that his experiences weighed on him in a way that couldn’t just be unburdened. Garrus wanted more than anything to be able to reach in and take whatever horror, or injury, or pain and pluck it from Shepard. The upside, however, was that Shepard truly seemed as if he truly did just want to continue forward in their lives.

He shook his head, trying to force himself to focus on the task at hand: getting dressed. He pulled clothes from the dresser and moved to place them on to the bed where, coincidentally, he could watch Shepard. He slipped his clothes on, head tilted down but eyes firmly locked onto Shepard. His heart wobbled in his chest as he watched his lover struggle to lift a razor to his cheek. Garrus opened his mouth to offer help, but stopped as Shepard’s razor finally made contact. 

“I’m going to the kitchen,” Garrus called.

“Okay.” Silence stretched comfortably, but as Garrus turned to leave Shepard murmured, “love you.”

“I love you too. Eggs okay?”

At Shepard’s nod, Garrus left their bedroom. The house they shared was small enough to be cozy, but large enough that Shepard didn’t have to struggle to maneuver around on his worst days. Most importantly, however, it was quiet and secluded from the world at large. That seclusion had come in handy in the days after Shepard was released from the hospital; it seemed as if every reporter in the galaxy had requested an interview with him and Garrus had to turn them all away. The only reporter that Shepard would speak to was Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, and even then they only spoke, no interview, no exclusive was given. Garrus didn’t push, didn’t press his fiancé to speak, but he couldn’t stop himself from wishing Shepard would at least open up to him. Though Shepard wasn’t willing to talk about what he’d been through, Garrus could at least count his blessings that his lover had wanted to move forward with their plan to get married and later that day, they had made plans for Shepard to finally meet Garrus’s family.

Reaching the kitchen, Garrus pulled out two separate cartons, one of levo eggs and the other the dextro equivalent. At first, it’d been a bit of a pain to cook two separate meals at once but after several months, Garrus found he actually enjoyed the process of cooking. The movements were second nature, so his mind was allowed to wander. He cracked and mixed up the eggs in separate bowls embossed with ‘D’ and ‘L’ respectively, and two separate pans marked the same.

The low-thump, thump of Shepard’s cane on the floor moved down the hall and into the kitchen. Garrus snuck a peak over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Shepard dressed in his nicer clothes. Shepard tugged on his shirt, a worried expression darkening his features. Though mostly healed, Shepard’s body still had wounds that required something the human doctors had called ‘VAC closure’, which Garrus knew amounted to some sort of large, black bandage and a small device that Shepard kept hidden under his clothes. He was self-conscious about it, Garrus knew, even if he didn’t understand why. Shepard usually wore dark, baggy clothing as a result. Today, however, he’d put on a better fitting - but still dark - button down.

“You can’t see anything, don’t worry,” Garrus said, turning back to look at his cooking. He knew Shepard

He heard Shepard grunt, then the low scrape of a chair on the floor and finally, a soft exhale as Shepard eased himself down. 

“I’m sure at the next appointment they’ll take it off,” Garrus offered, willing himself to keep his voice neutral.

“Maybe. Doctors think it’s an issue with some of the cybernetics I got from Cerberus, so who knows if I’ll ever get rid of it.”

“Of course you will, don’t say that.”

“It’s been years, Garrus.”

“It’s been _one_ year since you got out of the hospital and your injuries were… _extensive_. It’s going to take time.” Garrus slid the cooked eggs off of the pans and onto two plates - one red, one blue - at the same time, before setting the red plate down in front of Shepard. “You look nice, by the way.”

Shepard’s head snapped up from his plate, eyes widening a little in surprise. He swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Are you nervous?”

“About meeting your family? A little, but that’s probably normal.”

“Well, my sister is going to love you regardless. My dad, well, he doesn’t care for Spectres but he appreciates people who are good, honest and loyal; you have all of those qualities in spades, as humans say.”

Shepard’s free hand slowly slid across the table. Garrus’s heart flipped and flopped in his chest as he immediately seized the opportunity to meet Shepard halfway. Even before the war, Shepard hadn’t been free with his displays of affection, opting instead to show his regard more simply, with quiet attentiveness and open conversation. Garrus supposed that Shepard’s background was mostly to blame for that; Shepard rarely spoke of his childhood growing up on the streets of Earth, but when he did, he painted a picture of a sharp grey life, one filled with the suffocating hopelessness of already knowing how his entire life would play out before it’d even begun. Garrus shuddered to think what would have happened to Shepard if his biotics hadn’t come in.

The touch of Shepard’s skin on his pulled Garrus from his reverie. Their hands slipped together, fingers and blunted talons curling inward to better hold each other. Shepard said nothing, instead choosing to simply squeeze his fiancé’s hand and continue eating his eggs with his other.

* * *

John Shepard’s stomach rolled as he watched Garrus open their front door, revealing two Turians on the other side. Garrus’s face lit up in a bright smile as a smaller, female Turian cheered and wrapped her arms around him. Shepard was sitting, cane in front of him. Garrus had told him not to rise, that his family wouldn’t care if he stayed seated - implying that they had some idea of the shape he was in, much to his chagrin - but as Garrus’s sister looked at him, Shepard found himself struggling to his feet.

A mere moment later, Garrus had appeared at his side placed his hand at Shepard’s elbow, not quite helping him but enough so that Shepard knew that he was there. “I’m fine,” Shepard said as he steadied himself. Garrus patted Shepard gently on the back before he went back to greet his father. Shepard had wanted to watch, but before he could Garrus’s sister Solana held out her hand to him.

“I read this is how humans say hello,” she explained as she wiggled her hand.

Shepard smiled and took her hand. “We also give it a shake, like this,” he said as he demonstrated it to her.

“Oh, interesting!”

“Solana is obsessed with old human culture,” Garrus said, shaking his head the way he did when something was amusing.

“I am not! I just think it’s interesting.”

“Anyway,” Garrus said pointedly. “Shepard, I’d like you to meet my father: Castis Vakarian.”

Turians always had the unfortunate stereotype of being stern, thanks in no small part to their severe features. As Shepard looked at Garrus’s father, he could see how the stereotype came about. The older Turian’s features were white, which made his blue colony markings stand out significantly. His mandibles were still; if he’d had lips, Shepard was sure they’d be set in a frown. His eyes, however, were the most striking part of him; they were intense, but oddly warm. 

“Shepard, I’m glad to finally meet you. I can’t even begin to recall the amount of times Garrus has spoken of you.”

“It’s an honor to meet you. Garrus talks about you a lot as well,” Shepard replied, sneaking a glance up at his fiancé’s face.

With the awkward introductions out of the way, Garrus offered to show his family a tour of their home while Shepard opted to sit and rest. Garrus’s deep voice disappeared down the hall, and Shepard leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

“I suppose I should thank you.”

Shepard’s eyes flashed open. Castis was standing in front of him, arms crossed behind his back.

“For?” Shepard asked as he sat up a little, gesturing for Castis to sit. The Turian took the seat opposite him, and clasped his hands together in front of him.

“You got my son off of Omega. You got him through that trip through the Omega-4 Relay. You brought him home after the Reapers… you brought him home.”

“I’ll take credit for getting him off Omega, but he did the rest himself.”

“Perhaps, but I think you gave him something more to live for, a future.”

Shepard stayed silent, unable to speak.

“I don’t care that you’re human, I don’t care that you’re Commander Shepard, I care that you make my son happy.”

Garrus’s voice echoed down the hall as he made his way back to the living room; Shepard turned to watch him enter. 

“He makes me happy too.”

* * *

John Shepard rolled his neck around on his shoulders, trying to loosen up the tension that gripped his spine. There was a floor length mirror in front of him, allowing him to be able to look over his appearance and panic at his leisure. It wasn’t that Shepard was vain, not even close, but more that he knew he looked different than he had and the little voice in the back of his head always made him wonder if Garrus was truly okay with the near-wreck his body had become. He tugged on his suit jacket, grateful that the VAC dressing was gone at last. He shifted his weight a little, leaning on to his cane for balance. The grass beneath his feet crunched and he was suddenly glad that he was wearing darker shoes, lest the grass stain. A slight breeze ruffled the near-translucent fabric of the tent he stood in, allowing him to see the world outside for just a moment. He could see the long, white runner as it led into the center of a circle of chairs where a trellis adorned in flowers stood. The sunlight overhead was just bright enough to light up the area in vivid spring colors and Shepard knew they’d been lucky to find any venue that had escaped the war mostly unharmed.

“It’s time, Shepard.”

He watched Liara’s face appear in the mirror just behind him, a gentle smile on her features. She looked radiant, dressed head to toe in purple Asari finery.

“Thanks for coming, Liara.”

“You know I couldn’t miss this, not for anything.”

“Still, having the illustrious Doctor T’soni at my wedding is quite the honor,” Shepard teased.

“Shepard,” Liara chided with a shake of her head. “Are you ready, Mordin?”

Shepard followed Liara’s gaze to the corner of the tent where the imposing figure of Wrex and his small son - named Mordin - stood. Mordin looked terrified and clenched a small ring-bearer pillow in his three-fingered hand. He and Wrex were both wearing the usual Krogan armor, save for a small black bow-tie pinned to the chests. Wrex put his hand on his son’s shoulder and knelt down to speak to him. The voices were low, too soft for Shepard to hear but he could tell from the body language that Wrex was trying to comfort his son.

Outside, music began to play; it wasn’t a song that Shepard knew, but rather a Turian song that was a favorite of Garrus’s. The song was beautiful, with a rich sound that coaxed warmth in the depths of his person. It was distinctly Turian, all methodical and expertly arranged without any of the chaotic finesse of Asari or Human music. Shepard couldn’t help but wonder why the Turians didn’t seem to enjoy sharing their art with the galaxy.

Wrex stood, giving his son one last squeeze on the shoulder before moving to leave the tent and join the other guests.

“Shepard,” Wrex said as he walked by.

“Wrex.”

The little Krogan shuffled his feet nervously and glanced between Liara and Shepard as if his head was attached to a swivel.

Liara smiled kindly at him. “You’re going to do fine, Mordin. You’re just going to walk down the white carpet and meet your sister in the middle.”

“What if I get there before Shepard?”

“Then you just stand there and wait for her to arrive. Don’t worry.”

Shepard - the human - looked away, fighting back the little wobble in his stomach after hearing Urdnot Shepard’s name. He hadn’t truly expected Wrex and Bakara to name a child after him, but he’d be lying if he said that his and Mordin’s namesakes didn’t make his chest swell with pride. He took a breath, in and out before stepping away from the mirror and towards the tent flap. In front of him Liara stood with little Mordin, looking through the opening of the tent.

“Okay, there’s Shepard,” she said, her hand coming to rest on Mordin’s back protectively. “Now just take small steps down the carpet until you meet her in the middle. You’re going to do just fine.”

Mordin nodded wordlessly and gripped the little pillow in his hands tighter. Liara held the flap open for him, and watched for a moment as he slowly disappeared down the aisle.

“He’s doing wonderfully,” she remarked as she let the flap go and returned to Shepard’s side. Her hand came to rest on his arm. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The music swelled as they made their way to the front of the tent and Shepard could see the little figures of Urdnot Mordin and Urdnot Shepard standing underneath the trellis. Liara held her arm out for Shepard to take, acting as a stand in for the cane. He didn’t need the cane as much as he had only a year ago, but still needed a bit of support now and then. He leaned on her as she pushed open the flap of the tent. 

They stepped out on to the white runner, and Shepard suddenly felt overwhelmed. Every chair had been taken and some guests were even standing, all craning their necks to get a better look at either groom. In the crowd he could see their friends, the family that he and Garrus had built over the years, all smiling and cheering for the two of them as they walked down the aisle. He could see portraits of the people they’d lost propped up in chairs and attending the wedding in spirit. He saw Admiral Anderson’s stern, but warm face; Ashley’s carefully schooled expression; a grinning Mordin Solus, the deep, soulful eyes of Thane and.… Shepard forced himself to look forward, lest he get overcome. Instead, he looked through the trellis and on the other side he could see Garrus walking towards him with Tali on his arm. Before he could stop it, a grin broke out on to Shepard’s face, puling the corners of his lips higher and tighter than they’d been in years and, without warning, tears flooded his eyes.

Garrus was in a traditional Turian Bonding suit, which to Shepard’s untrained but loving eyes looked the same as the normal clothes Garrus wore, save for the material and color being different. Yet, it had been important to Garrus, and that was all that mattered to Shepard. Still, to Shepard, Garrus had never looked better.  The suit was black and what Shepard had guessed was the Turian version of velvet in texture; the high back collar and sleeves trimmed in white. When their eyes finally met, the tears in Shepard’s eyes finally spilled over, trailing down his scarred cheeks. The world around them faded away as they were both caught up in each other’s gaze. Shepard felt as if he were floating, feet barely touching the white runner as he finally reached the trellis. Shepard hardly noticed Samara and the two young Krogan already waiting for them, instead focusing entirely on his future husband.

They met and their palms came together almost immediately, finger and talon wrapping around their entwined hands. Shepard pulled Garrus to him, not stopping until their bodies were close enough for him to wrap an arm around Garrus’s slender waist.

“You look great,” Garrus whispered in Shepard’s ear.

“So do you.”

A soft throat clearing gently drew Shepard’s focus back to the wedding and on to Samara, who stood in front of them with her regal head held high. Her striking eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before she softly asked, “ready?”

Shepard nodded as Garrus murmured his assent. Samara nodded, her face was relaxed and her expression warm - probably the closest the Justicar came to smiling.

“Family and Friends, we have assembled today so that we may bear witness and celebrate the bonding of John Shepard and Garrus Vakarian.”

Samara continued, “In normal circumstances, to find another soul to bond to is an extraordinary thing but for two people to find each other in times of war and chaos is truly a blessing. For love to exist in the midst darkness, it must come from the parts of our hearts where only light can grow. For love is a gift from the universe which can heal, comfort and protect. Shepard and Garrus have asked us here today to so that they may share this gift with those they love most.

“We would be remiss, however, if we did not take a moment to acknowledge those we love who could not be here today. Shepard and Garrus have asked that you keep them in your thoughts and hearts as we now share a moment of silence in their honor.”

The thick silence surrounded them and Shepard had to close his eyes lest he get suffocated by it.

“Now, please look at one another and remember this moment in time.”

Shepard disentangled himself from Garrus’s side and moved to face him fully, their hands never parting. Samara’s gentle voice washed over them, but the rest of the world drifted away as Shepard stared deep into Garrus’s intense eyes.

“Before this moment you were many things to each other: brothers-in-arms, friends, lovers, fiancés; but now you shall say your vows that will take you across another threshold of life so that now you will say to the world, ‘this is my husband’. These vows will bond you together in a promise that you will both love and honor the other. Knowing the great commitment you now face to each other, Garrus do you pledge your bond to Shepard?”

Garrus squeezed his hand, his mandibles wiggling as he said, “I do.”

“Shepard, do you pledge your bond to Garrus?”

A sudden sense of ultimate calm and peace washed over Shepard. “I do.”

“Now, the couple has written their own vows that they would like to say to each other.”

Garrus reached across the space between them with his free hand to grasp Shepard’s so that both their hands were intertwined.

“John,” Garrus began, causing Shepard to start. He’d not been called by his first name in years. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever even heard Garrus use his first name. “I love you unconditionally and without hesitation. I pledge to you that for as long as I live, I will spend every day of my life loving you and doing whatever I can to make you happy. I promise to celebrate with you when times are good and to struggle with you when they are not. I promise to cherish you, respect you as my husband. I marry you without doubt or hesitation, but with love. Will you marry me?”

Shepard sniffed, fresh tears trailing down his cheeks. It wasn’t lost on him that Garrus had used the human word ‘husband’ in his vows. Little touches like that made Shepard love Garrus all the more.

“I will,” Shepard murmured. He cleared his throat a little before continuing, “Garrus, I have loved you since we stood in on the cargo deck of the first Normandy. I will love you even as my body takes its last breath. I pledge myself to be your bondmate, to be your partner in life. I promise to stand at your side, in times of strife and times of happiness and to spend every day of my life loving you. I also pledge, from this day forward that you, Garrus, got the kill shot.”

Garrus chuckled, and an echoing ripple of gentle laughter flowed through the circle of family and friends around them.

Shepard continued, “when I was broken, you helped put me back together. I will never be able to thank you for that. I love you so much. Garrus, will you marry me?”

Bringing their entwined hands to his mouth, Garrus pressed his mouth against both sets of Shepard’s knuckles. “I will.”

“Then, will the ringbearers come forward?”

The two small Krogan stepped forward, Mordin by Shepard’s side and Urdnot Shepard by Garrus’s side. Their hands finally parted, and Shepard found he immediately missed the contact. Garrus took the shining ring from Urdnot Shepard’s pillow in his talons.

“Garrus, will you place the ring on Shepard’s finger and signify to the rest of the galaxy your bond?”

“I will,” Garrus said as he slipped the ring on Shepard’s finger.

“Shepard, will you place the ring on Garrus’s finger and signify to the rest of the galaxy your bond?”

“I will.”

The ring slipped on to Garrus’s talon and Shepard find he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his features.  

“In front of all those who have gathered here, it is my honor to declare you both bonded in marriage.”

Without hesitating, Garrus gathered Shepard in his arms and dipped him down. Shepard gasped and Garrus waited half a beat, giving him time to protest if he needed. Then, finally, Garrus leaned down to kiss Shepard deeply. Their guests cheered and clapped, though Shepard hardly heard him over the rush of blood in his own ears. Garrus helped him back up and the two embraced at last, holding each other as tightly as they could stand. Garrus leaned down to press his forehead against Shepard’s as his mandibles wiggle almost wildly.

They made their way slowly towards the reception area - another small section of the park they’d rented - holding hands all the while. They let go of each other to allow a receiving line to form and pass through them. It was a little overwhelming, but Shepard was happy to see so many friendly, happy faces, some of whom he’d not seen since the end of the war. As the line ended and all their guests had made their way into the little pavilion, Garrus wrapped his arm around Shepard’s shoulders and held him close. The two of them looked out over the guests, smiling all the while. He watched as Zaeed stood at the bar with Grunt and Jack, drinking and trading stories; Doctor Chakwas, Kaidan, Gabby Daniels, Ken Donnelly and James Vega sat a table, talking. There was Miranda, chatting with Jacob and Doctor Cole; then they could see Liara, Javik, Tali, Wrex and Bakara together. There were too many people to truly count, even those like Conrad Verner and Bailey came. Though Shepard knew that he’d met a lot of people over the course of his career, it was somewhat overwhelming to see them all gathered in one spot.

Garrus gave Shepard’s shoulder a little squeeze. “What do you want to do now?”

“I guess what we need now are just kids and a dog.” 

Garrus laughed and leaned down to press his mouth against the top of Shepard’s head. Shepard had always thought that his journey would be over when he left the Alliance and settled down. He’d assumed that his life would, mostly, be over. Yet, as he wrapped his arm around his new husband’s waist he realized… his life had only just begun.


End file.
